


can i call you tonight?

by nights



Series: dial up connection [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Nude Photos, POV Zuko (Avatar), Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, as per usual, they're husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nights/pseuds/nights
Summary: Zuko tilts his head to the side, considering. He looks pretty good, he thinks, miraculously good for someone who’s just rolled out of bed… he runs a hand through his hair again, ruffling it a little, and twists to the side, preening. Zuko feels a bit vain, admiring himself — but there’s no one else around to admire him, so.Or… maybe —---When Sokka leaves town for a conference, Zuko gets a little restless, and gives his husband a call.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: dial up connection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191881
Comments: 21
Kudos: 352
Collections: HZH Horny ATLA Fic





	can i call you tonight?

**Author's Note:**

> a little smutty tidbit to follow up the hurt/comfort fic i just posted. literally just modern au husbands having phone sex, that's the whole thing.

Zuko rolls over in bed, restless. He’s nowhere near sleepy enough to actually go to bed. Usually he’d make Sokka play with his hair until he finally dozed off, but he can’t do that with his husband all the way across the country.

Sokka’s at a research conference, and Zuko’s _so_ excited for him, really; Sokka’s presenting his latest work, work that he’s hoping will garner some buzz and end up as a high-impact publication. Zuko’s husband had been pulling late nights doing data analysis, getting his presentation ready, rehearsing, fretting to Zuko about loose ends he saw in his own conclusions that he just couldn’t figure out how to tie up; and then he’d boarded a plane, and Zuko was left very alone for the week. Sure, they’d been calling each night, but it just isn’t the same.

Zuko tumbles out of bed and wanders to the bathroom sink, filling his glass of water again, just to give himself something to do other than toss and turn and work himself into a lather. Zuko chugs some of the water and stares at himself in the mirror, sighing.

“Why are you like this,” he says to Mirror Zuko. Mirror Zuko doesn’t respond.

He runs a hand through his hair, half-dried from his shower earlier. It’s fluffed up a little, and smells like the shampoo Zuko stole from Sokka — he misses his husband, okay? In the mornings, Zuko will muss it up a little with product, but Sokka says he likes it better like this, all floppy and clean.

Zuko tilts his head to the side, considering. He looks pretty good, he thinks, miraculously good for someone who’s just rolled out of bed… he runs a hand through his hair again, ruffling it a little, and twists to the side, preening. Zuko feels a bit vain, admiring himself — but there’s no one else around to admire him, so.

Or… maybe — Zuko pushes the glass of water to the corner of the counter and pulls out his phone. First things first: shirt off. He hesitates for a moment, when he’s confronted with the lightning scar that blooms over his stomach, spidery pink lines that crawl outward like the branches of a ghostly tree; but, Sokka knows what he looks like. It’s not a surprise, they’re _married_ , for crying out loud.

He feels a little silly when he takes the first few pictures, tilting his body in different ways, trying to figure out what works. Zuko hasn’t done this in a while — the last time he took any remotely suggestive pictures of himself was in college, and in all honesty they weren’t that well-done then, either. Zuko puts an arm behind his head and takes some more, and almost gives up entirely, cringing. None of them are quite right, his face looks like he’s concentrating too hard, it isn’t —

Zuko sighs and puts his phone down. No, no, he wants to send Sokka _something;_ the thought of Sokka opening his phone and flushing, getting hot and bothered because of him, has Zuko’s skin goosebumping in excitement.

 _Okay. Try again._ Zuko shimmies the waistband of his pants a little lower, to show off the lines of his obliques — he knows Sokka likes them. He takes about a million pictures, trying new angles and poses, thinking about Sokka opening it in surprise, his eyes widening a little, maybe having to turn his phone over quickly so no one sees… and Zuko starts to get hard, just a bit.

The outline of it is visible through Zuko’s grey sweatpants, laying sideways, so Zuko takes a few pictures with his hand cupped around it loosely, some with his thumb tucked under his waistband, pulling it suggestively lower, some with his body tilted to the side to show off how he’s started to tent his sweatpants.

Zuko stops to scroll through, feeling a little warm in the cheeks. Most of the pictures have one or two nitpicky things wrong with them; his hand is holding his phone awkwardly in this one, his head is tilted awkwardly in that one… finally, he finds it, the one shot where he can’t find anything wrong. _Huh,_ he thinks, _I actually look pretty good —_ his mouth is parted, hand loosely draped over the front of his pants, hair hanging in his eyes. He can’t find anything _wrong_ with it, at the very least.

Zuko takes a deep breath, and sends it. Sokka’s response is almost instantaneous.

_Sokka_

_Attachment: 1 Photo_

Can’t sleep. Thinking about you

baby

oh my god

yes

You like it?

yes yes

hold on let me pay this tab

Tab?

* * *

Several minutes go by. Zuko passes the time taking more pictures, drawing his free hand over his body, shoving it into his hair — after the thrill of Sokka’s enthusiastic response, he’s starting to feel a little looser, a little more playful. He picks another picture, one with his knee propped up on the counter, showing off the curve of his ass, and sends it off. Finally, after more minutes drag by, Sokka’s reply pings onto Zuko’s phone.

_Sokka_

_Attachment: 1 Photo_

I can’t wait for you to  
come home

fuck baby

yeah i was at the hotel bar

now i am NOT at the  
hotel bar holy fuck

show me more

Okay one sec

* * *

Zuko checks his underwear. Plain boxers; it’s not really screaming sex appeal, so he puts the phone down and goes to the dresser, pawing through to find those things Sokka had bought for him at Pride, grinning while Zuko blushed furiously.

Finally, he finds what he’s looking for: tight mesh briefs, black, with panels on either side that are just three flimsy straps. Zuko feels silly, again, when he puts them on and starts snapping away, but just keeps thinking about Sokka’s flustered face.

_Sokka_

babyyy

wanna see you

I wanna take a good one  
for you

i’m sure they’re all sexy

please

i had to run up to my room  
you got me so riled up

_Attachment: 1 Photo_

These came in handy I guess

zuko

zuko holy shit

* * *

Zuko’s phone buzzes, chirping with an incoming call from his husband.

“Hello?”

Sokka’s voice on the other end is low and fuzzy around the edges. “I love you so goddamn much. Oh my god.”

Zuko’s skin thrills at the sound of Sokka’s open desire. “I love you, too. Miss you.”

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Sokka says, the line crackling with noise — maybe the sound of fabric moving? “Wish I could be there.”

“Yeah? The pictures are good? I felt kind of stupid taking them.”

“Baby,” Sokka breathes, “I — shut up. In those briefs — fuck. I’m hard already.”

Zuko likes hearing that, he _really_ likes hearing that. “You want me to try on the — ?”

He’s barely even got the question out before Sokka’s begging for it, so he puts on the other pair Sokka had bought, lacy boxers in a vibrant cherry red, and lets the head of his cock peek out from the top. It lays flush with the skin of his stomach, the line of it visible through the red lace. The whole time Zuko’s taking pictures, Sokka’s babbling on the other line, talking about everything he’s now planning to do once he gets home —

“Gonna get you on my cock as soon as I can, Zuko — I’m gonna have to buy you more shit to wear for me, you look so fucking pretty in it —”

Zuko sends the picture of the red, and hears Sokka’s phone chirp, then hears his voice pull up short.

Sokka groans, voice pitching up a little into a whine at the end. “Zukooo. You’re killing me.”

“Well, I don’t wanna _kill_ you,” Zuko says, and can’t resist palming himself, eyelids falling lower. “Then I’d have to go to jail, and orange isn’t really my color.”

“Baby, every color’s your color. Fuck. I’m —” Sokka’s voice chokes off, and Zuko hears a shuddering breath.

“You’re touching yourself?” Zuko asks, and Sokka moans a _yes_ that sends heat lancing up Zuko’s spine. “That’s… that’s — I, uh… you want more pictures?”

Sokka’s _yes_ is more of a gasp than a word, so Zuko takes them. They’re a little less posed now, more rapid-fire, Zuko pulling his cock out and stroking slowly. He takes a shot from above with it laying in his palm, hard and leaking. He hears the chirp of Sokka’s phone again, and another whine.

“Hunh, baby, _please_ touch yourself, need to hear you —”

“Yeah, okay, okay —” Zuko goes to the bed, leaning back, closing his eyes at the sounds of Sokka moaning his name. “I’m… I’m on the bed, now. Wish you could be here to touch me instead.”

“Me too,” Sokka pants, and Zuko can just barely hear the sound of Sokka jerking himself. “You know if I was there… you know I’d be all over you, all over that beautiful fucking body…”

“Sokka — you need to come home,” he sighs, stroking himself slowly. “It’s not the same.”

“I know baby, I know. Just listen to my voice. You want me to tell you everything I’d do? If I had you under me?” Sokka’s voice is starting to go a little rough — but maybe that’s just the cellular static.

Zuko puts Sokka on speaker and sets the phone next to him on the bed. He scrabbles around in the nightstand for a little lotion before settling in. “Mmhmm.”

“Ohh, Zuko. Your cock looks so good in those pictures, so good I can almost fucking taste it —”

The image of Sokka leaning over his lap, tongue running up the underside of him, flashes in Zuko’s head; “ _God,_ Sokka, hunh —”

Sokka laughs a little, dark and gravelly. “Yeah, you like that? My mouth was watering in the goddamn elevator, Zuko. Wanna get my mouth all over you, mark you up nice and good.”

Zuko can almost _feel_ the delicious sting of Sokka sucking bruises over his chest, nipping and kissing and digging is nails in —

“So everyone knows, everyone knows…” Zuko’s not really thinking about the words that fall out of his mouth; they just come, unbidden.

“That’s right, so everyone knows. Make sure everyone can see how good I fuck you, huh?” Sokka’s getting breathier, his phrases punctuated by little gasps.

“Yeah —”

“Shiiit, Zuko, ah — I’m so hard for you. Wanna see?” _Yes._ Zuko wants to see very badly.

“Please, yes please.”

There’s a pause, just Sokka’s labored breathing on the line, and then Zuko’s phone chimes. It makes Zuko a little dizzy; it’s taken from below, so the shot gets the underside of Sokka’s cock against the background of his stomach, all tanned skin, Sokka’s hand wrapped loosely around the shaft, Zuko’s thinking about those _fingers_ now —

“Sokka, I’m —”

“See how hard I am? Fucking aching, Zuko.” He whines a little, and Zuko moans back.

Zuko’s eyes are fixed on the image — he can’t take his eyes off it. “Looks so good, wanna get on my knees for you…” In his imagination, he’s got that view in the photo, looking up at Sokka, mouth parted — Sokka’s using those fingers to urge his lips to open wider, guide himself in —

“Yeah, be such a good boy for me. Isn’t that right?” As long as Zuko keeps his eyes closed, it’s almost like Sokka’s right there, whispering in his ear.

“Yes, _yes_ , wanna be good,” Zuko pants, desperate.

Sokka’s moaning, voice frantic, “You always are, baby — huh, fuck — _fuck_ , when I come home — gonna take such good care of you.”

“Sokka, Sokka… I’ve been thinking about it, when I touch myself, think about you being here instead.”

He wants Sokka to know. It’s been all Zuko can think about, dreaming up increasingly outlandish things for them to try, trying to find the fantasy that will scratch the itch that only Sokka himself can satisfy. In every one of them, Sokka’s smile is there, cocky and mirthful, telling him how _good_ Zuko is.

“Yeah? Tell me about it, Zuko,” Sokka sighs, breath catching.

Zuko’s never been incredible at dirty talk, but he’ll try, _for Sokka, anything for Sokka;_ “Ah — I think about you kissing me, teasing me. Making me beg for it.”

“Ohh, baby. I love to tease you.” Sokka’s voice goes warm and syrup-y, the way it does when he’s gearing up to really make Zuko scream.

“I know, I love it too — you get me so hard it, it almost hurts — huh, fuck. I think about you using me.”

It just slips out, and with Zuko’s eyes closed, it feels like a confession.

“Zukooo, you — oh, god.” There’s some shuffling on the other end, like Sokka’s dropped the phone, and then it clears up. “Keep going.”

“Uhh. Think about… well.” He feels shy, all of a sudden.

“Keep going, keep going. How do you want me to use you, baby?”

“Okay, it’s — want you to tie me up. And, and — shit, hnh — want you to spank me —” Sokka groans, a broken, desperate noise, “’til I’m all red, and, and I feel it the rest of the day —”

Saying it out loud, the secret things Zuko had been thinking about, makes his cheeks flame, but Sokka just whines and pants Zuko’s name.

“And… Sokka, it’s just —”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Want you to _make_ me be good for you.”

Sokka swallows thickly. “Okay. You want me to tell you what to do?”

 _God_ , does Zuko want that. He wants to not have to decide, just make Sokka happy, make him look at Zuko with that open lust and wonder that makes Zuko feel like he’s on fire.

“Mmhmm. Tell me.”

Sokka exhales. “You still have that underwear on? The red ones?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you make a mess of them yet?”

Zuko looks down at where he’s got his hand shoved down them, hand a little slick with lotion but otherwise un-messed.

“No.”

Sokka’s voice is low and sweet again. “Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

Zuko’s pulse thrums, and his cock gives an interested twitch. It’s dangerous, when Sokka slips into that voice, the one that sounds like he’s cooking up plans that Zuko’s not privy to.

“Go get a toy and some lube, Zuko. Pick whatever toy you want.”

“O-okay.” Zuko’s enjoying whatever game he’s playing.

The lube’s in the nightstand, but they keep their toys in the bottom drawer of their dresser, in a bag. There’s a prostate massager and two plugs: the smaller, smooth one that was the first thing they’d ever bought together, and a larger one with swirling ridges that Sokka had picked out after enjoying the first one so much. The plug is tempting but — the massager always makes Zuko see stars.

When he’s settled on the bed again, having snagged a towel on the way to put underneath him (Zuko will be damned if he ruins a perfectly good set of sheets), he takes a deep breath and leans back, setting his phone on the pillows next to his head.

“I’m back,” Zuko says, and wishes Sokka were there to give him a welcoming kiss.

Sokka’s voice crackles on the other end. “Hi, baby. What’d you pick?”

“The black one.”

“Ohh, you love that one, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I bet you look so sexy right now, all laid out for me. Take a picture.”

Zuko’s hands are shakier now, but he manages to get a few good shots, playing with the waistband of the lacy underwear, and he sends it to Sokka, chest tight with excitement.

Sokka’s high moan on the other end sends a wash of heat over Zuko’s skin. “I was right, you look amazing. Wish I could ruin you myself.”

Zuko whines at that, and Sokka laughs a little, that gentle, sweet-tempered laugh that’s for Zuko and Zuko alone.

“But I can’t, so you’re gonna have to do it for me. Are you gonna be a good boy and ruin yourself for me?”

Zuko has to breathe hard through his nose when he hears that, coming through the phone low and teasing.

“Yeah, I am,” he says, trying desperately to keep his voice somewhat steady.

Sokka laughs again. “Yeah, you are. Touch yourself for me — slowly.”

Zuko does, slicking up his hand with a little lube and stroking steadily. He shimmies the phone a little closer to his head, to pick up his voice better — he knows how much Sokka likes to hear the sounds he makes. Zuko can hear Sokka’s noises on the other end, hard breathing and soft moans that settle somewhere in Zuko’s stomach, molten hot.

“That feel good, Zuko?” he murmurs.

Zuko nods, then remembers Sokka can’t see him. “Yeah, feels — huh, good. Want more.”

Sokka pauses for a moment, then says, “Why don’t you get that hole ready for me?” Zuko bites down on a groan. “Hm? That sound like a good idea?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Zuko hisses, hips flinching up into his fist. “That s-sounds like a good idea — can I take them off? The underwear?”

“Sure. Wish I could stuff them in your mouth, but I wanna hear you.”

The image of it bursts into Zuko’s head, Sokka looming over him and pushing the red lace between his lips, grinning with flashing teeth — a particularly loud moan rips itself out of Zuko’s lungs.

“Zuko, you want that? Me, ah — me gagging you?” Sokka’s breathing is picking up.

“Yeah — oh, god.” Zuko’s frantically trying to get out of the underwear; he needs _more_ , now. Once the scrap of red lace has been flung aside, Zuko slicks more lube onto his fingers and settles back, legs spread.

“Put a finger inside, baby. I know you want it.”

It’s like Sokka is _right_ there, whispering in his ear — he follows instructions, pressing one finger in to the first knuckle, carefully working it further. It’s always an odd feeling, at first, but it quickly fades into a sweet, familiar burn. Zuko turns his mouth toward the phone receiver, letting a few moans leak out for Sokka’s benefit.

“God, you sound incredible. I, hunh, I wish I could get on a flight right fucking now. Zuko — fuck. You want another?”

“Yes, _please,_ ” Zuko breathes, fitting another finger in alongside the first one. His body feels like a live wire, buzzing with the anticipation of what Sokka will say next in that low, syrupy voice. “Sokka, shit. Wish it was you.”

“I know, I know — this is good, though, right? My voice?”

Zuko shifts his fingers a little and whines at the slick stretch. “F-fuck. Yeah, this is good. This’s so fucking hot, Sokka.”

He hears Sokka panting and the sounds of him stroking himself on the other line. “Yeahh, god. I’m so hard, Zuko, christ — shit — get that fucking toy in you.”

“Yeah, yeah —” Zuko eases his fingers out and wipes them on the towel beneath him, reaching for the massager and the lube; he slicks it up and slips it in, gasping a little at the stretch around the flared head.

Sokka moans through the line. “Wanna fuck you so bad, Zuko, oh my _god_ — fuck, I’m —” he hears Sokka hiss, there, breathing hard, “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Sokka, want you here,” Zuko rasps, moving the toy slowly in and out. “Please, can I — wanna turn it on —”

“Yeah, turn it on, Zuko. Shit, wanna hear you —” he’s stopped short when Zuko feels a bolt of pleasure shoot through him and whimpers loud into the receiver — “yeah, just like that, just like that. Wish, hunh, wish I could see —”

“Want me to send you a picture?” Zuko blurts, and there’s a crackle that sounds like Sokka fumbling with the phone.

“Please, holy shit —”

Zuko manages to prop the phone on the bunched-up covers and sets a timer, leaning onto the pillows with one hand holding his knee back and the other drawing the toy in and out — he can’t help it, his mouth drops open when he does, and the timer snaps — Zuko takes a few more, dizzily picks one, and sends it to Sokka. When he gets it, Sokka makes a noise like a wounded animal.

“I’m — you look — you’re insane, baby.”

“You like seeing me like this?” Zuko gasps; he tilts the toy up, and his eyes flutter shut at the sweet feeling of it.

“You’re — I’m dying, Zuko. You — you look so pretty like that —”

“Being good for you?”

“Mmhmm, being very good for me, playing with that hole for me —”

Zuko wraps a hand around his leaking cock and starts stroking, keeps the toy working inside him, chasing the burning feeling in his pelvis, that searing pleasure that sends sparks right up to his flushed cheeks. “Sokka, oh my _god_ , I… please, I’m gonna —”

“You gonna come for me, baby? Hah, fuck — do it, come, come on. Say my name, baby.”

“Sokka, _Sokka_ —” Zuko can feel his body drawing tight like a bowstring, “I’m — _Sokka_ ,” he hisses, and then the string snaps, and he strokes himself through it, clenching around the toy. He lets out some ungodly sound, right into the receiver, and dimly hears Sokka swear repeatedly.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ — yeah, come for me, Zuko —”

“Sokk _aaaa_.” The name rips out of him while he comes down, hips twitching, sucking in as much air as he can get.

“Zuko, I’m close, too — you sound so fucking good, baby, look so fucking good, with that toy — christ.”

He’s starting to come down to Earth a little, easing the toy out of him, and Sokka’s breath is rough and staticky over the phone when Zuko gasps back, “Wish it was your cock,” and Sokka swears again.

Sokka’s falling apart on the other line, breathing going rough and choppy, so Zuko keeps talking: “I wish you were here to bend me over.”

Sokka moans, and Zuko can hear how frantically he’s stroking himself — it’s thrilling, hearing Sokka respond so readily to his voice. Zuko has never quite felt comfortable, talking dirty to Sokka, but with his vision still hazy from pleasure and Sokka asking him to _keep talking, baby,_ he’ll say anything.

Zuko’s eyes fall shut, pulling on some of those secret fantasies he’d cooked up while Sokka’s been gone. “Want you to fill me up, Sokka. Want you to tie me to the bedpost and fuck me ’til I can’t stand —” Sokka whines, then, “— I came so hard for you, got it _all over_ me —” That one’s a little bit of a lie; it’s mostly just a few errant splotches on his stomach, but still.

“A-ah, take a picture,” Sokka gasps.

Zuko keeps talking while he does, focusing the camera on his stomach and half-hard cock. “Wish it was yours instead. That picture of you — looked so fucking good. Want you to make me take it —” He sends the picture and listens to Sokka moan, loud and long; in his mind’s eye, Zuko can almost see it, Sokka’s head thrown back, arm flexing. Zuko knows that he’s going to feel a little embarrassed later, at all the lewd things that are coming out of his mouth, but he doesn’t _care_ at that moment, just wants to hear Sokka finish —

“Zuko, baby, fuck — hnh, I’m gonna —”

“Come? Yeah, wish I could taste it, Sokka… want you to choke me with that cock —”

“ _Zuko…_ ”

“Want you to finish down my throat, you taste so fucking good —”

Sokka cries out, “I’m — yeah, I’m —” and then it’s just drawn-out moans and babbled swears. Zuko can hear the way his breath rattles in his chest, like it’s clawing its way out of him. Finally, his breathing starts to slow, and he sighs into the phone, “God. I didn’t know you had _that_ in you.”

Zuko grins. “What, you didn’t think I could be sexy?”

Sokka’s laugh is tinny over the line. “No, of course I knew _that_ — do you really want me to do all that? Tying you up, and, and spanking? That kinda stuff?”

“Well —” Zuko feels his cheeks rush with heat all over again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I’ve been… thinking.”

“I can tell.” Zuko wants so _badly_ to be able to see and kiss the smile that he can hear through the phone. “We can try some of that. Sounds fun.”

“Yeah?” Zuko leans forward and starts to set about cleaning up — the phone’s still on speaker, lying next to him.

“Yeah, baby. You have some really good ideas.” Sokka pauses. “Is it okay if I keep the photos? They’re so hot.”

Zuko hums an assent, “Mmhmm. You can keep ‘em.”

“Perfect. I wanna look at them later, when I’m thinking about you — I still have a few more days here, after all.”

The thought of Sokka pulling them out and fantasizing about him sends a shiver through Zuko.

“I could send more? Tomorrow?” Zuko offers.

“If you want to — I’d _love_ them.”

Okay. Zuko can do that.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, thanks so much for reading! if you liked it, lmk in the comments :)


End file.
